ALMOST IN LOVE

Yes, it is time!

But, you people too like gist. Simple title of “Almost in Love” and the way people have gathered round for a sensational romance story is unbelievable. One of these days, I will change the storyline to _Ayah Matanga_ and see what will happen to all ye love story lovers. Lovers of love…

Have you ever been in love?

Have you ever almost been in love?

Since you have come to listen to this fantastic tale, tell me the difference.

I was told that loving and being in love are not the same thing. Loving isn’t the butterflies. It is the decision and the commitment willy-nilly. Being in love is the giddy feeling; the racing hearts and breathless moments. How many have seen it coming and still been able to escape it? Draw close and share your experience. How did you escape? How did you manage not to get trapped like the moth that is drawn to the flames that would singe its wings? If you escaped, you have skills to teach, I daresay.

I acquired that super human skill in the year 2000. I had to be 19 to be allowed to join the Singles’ Fellowship in the church I used to attend. I did not qualify until 1999. This story started from the first time I ever registered to attend a Singles’ Meeting in church. The feeling was novel. I was no longer just a teenager. I was officially single. You might not understand what this meant.

This meant that the reason the Hero and the Heroine in “The Little Black Dress” broke up (which you were not told in that story) did not apply to me. It meant I was not too young to love truly, madly and deeply. I would not be considered precocious if I said I loved someone or if we behaved like an old married couple. It was liberating!

Anyway, that was how I registered to attend the Singles’ Conference with my full chest, like _Titi_ would put it. Little did I know that that simple act was going to put my singlehood to the test sharply. Singles Conference was a 2-day conference; starting on Friday evening and continuing on Saturday morning. I was excited about finding out what they used to discuss. Sometime on Friday afternoon, the landline at my parents’ house rang. For those of you who don’t know what that is, it is a phone that is connected to other phones with wires. _(and ps: I am not your mate)_

“Hello”
“Hello”. I picked. I usually sat by the phone with a novel anyway, so I got to pick most calls. The voice was male, not as guttural as it was nasal. It was a very unfamiliar voice.
“Please may I speak with Jumoke?”
“Jumoke on the line. Please may I know who is speaking?”
“I am calling from the Singles’ Fellowship.” That got a smile out of me. “You registered to attend today’s event.”
“Yes, I did. That was how you got my number.”
“Yes. My name is MyPearl.” (That is what we will call him for the purposes of this story). “I am the head of the Singles’ Fellowship. I just want to find out if you would be able to make it today.”
“I definitely will. I am almost ready. I am just whiling away time till I have to leave the house.”
“Cool. See you later in the evening.”
“Thank you so much for calling. I appreciate it.”
“You are welcome.”

I was beaming. I had been officially recognized as single and a guy had called to make sure I would attend. Wow!

Anyway, two hours later, the phone rang again.

“Hello”
“MyPearl” I recognized the voice instantly. I had not ever spoken with anyone else with that nasal voice quality.
“Yes. It is almost time to head out.”
“Is that why you called? To remind me?” I started feeling very important.
“Not quite.”
“Okay. What is it then?”
“I work in a bank in Ilorin and I have not been able to get away from work. I might not be able to make today’s program. Can you please inform those on the organizing committee about this? I have been trying to reach them without success.”
“Of course. No problem. Just give me the name of the person I am to inform.”
“Thank you very much.”
“It is nothing.”

That was how I became the messenger of love. Maybe not of love, but I went to deliver MyPearl’s message. The conference was amusing. So much talk about what dating is and what courtship is and the difference between them. Saturday was reserved for talking about what to look out for in people and relationships. I enjoyed it because I was called “single”. Not like I didn’t already know much of what they spoke about. Lol!

On Saturday morning, I was sitting comfortably in the auditorium when someone tried to blind me with his smile. I didn’t understand it much until the person got to my side and stretched out his hand to me and said “MyPearl”.

“Oh! Pleased to meet you.” I took his soft palms in my calloused one. Daily pounding of yam had taken its toll on my hands.
His smile was too wide and he was too keen on maintaining eye contact. I had seen him around, I just didn’t know the dulcet voice was his. He was the elder brother of someone from my campus fellowship that I did not talk to much. I did not know how to warn him that mere mortals used to fall when they looked into my eyes for too long. If you like, don’t believe it. Don’t try it next time you see me o!

Moving on. I saw him again on Sunday and his smile was not reducing. So, I concluded that that was his trademark. Over the years, I have seen him sad and angry. I know now that something must have been tickling him back then. Single Conference was over. I enjoyed my new status and resumed my normal life on Monday.

However, there was a new twist. MyPearl called on Monday to ask if he could call me regularly. Apparently, he thought my voice was dulcet too. Back then, I did not know not to say it so I told him I thought the same thing of his voice. I asked him to call as often as he felt like. In essence the feeling was mutual. But wait – what feeling?

MyPearl started calling twice a day; morning and evening, both at 6. Within 2 days, the calls started lasting an hour each. By the third day, things had gotten serious. For those with landlines back then – you know that jolt you feel when the phone rings and without seeing a caller ID (because there were none), you knew who was calling? I had started jolting. Wednesday evening’s call was sober. I could tell he was not smiling.

“What is the matter?”
“I am afraid that things would go wrong.”
“How do you mean?”
“My girlfriend doesn’t have a phone at home.”
“Okay. How does this mean things would go wrong?”
“I have been talking to you more than I have been talking to her.”
“Okay… I still don’t understand why this would make you sad.”
“That was how we started dating.”
“I don’t really understand. Can you explain?”

That was how he told me of his first girlfriend in school. They were a perfect fit. Even though he had decided not to date in school, she melted his resolve. It was heaven on earth. As it turned out, she was my best friend’s friend but that one sef is another story. Anyway, he graduated, went to serve and met the lady he was now dating. Communicating with the first lady had gotten hard and the other lady was always around. Gradually, they drew apart in the first relationship and he grew into the new one. He was afraid because he was sensing that cycle repeating itself.

“Jumoke, this is not a good thing. I must not drift in and out of relationships.”
“I agree. You must not.”
“Will you help me?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Please make sure that whatever happens, I don’t leave her for you?”
“I can’t promise that you won’t leave her o. I however promise that if you leave her, it won’t be for me, because I would never be available for you. This isn’t because I don’t consider you fantastic, someone anyone should want to be with, but because you have asked for my help.”

Has you ever given your word before and wondered if you were mad when you did it?

Na so we see am o… We have reached our weekly story length. If you convince me to tell the rest of the story, I will continue next Saturday. Till then… Arrivedeci!